Is Calmness A Power?

A Texas State trooper pulled a car over on I-35 about 2 miles south of Waco, Texas.

When the trooper asked why he was speeding, the driver said he was a Magician and Juggler on his way to Austin, Texas to do a show for the Shrine Circus. He didn’t want to be late.

The trooper told the driver he was fascinated by juggling and said if the driver would do a little juggling for him he wouldn’t give him a ticket. He told the trooper he had sent his equipment ahead and had nothing to juggle. The trooper said he had torches in the trunk and asked if he could juggle them. The juggler said he could, so the trooper got 5 torches, lit them, and handed them to him.

While the man was on the side of the highway and juggling, a car pulled in behind the State Troopers car. A drunken good old boy from central Texas got out, watched the performance, then went over to the Trooper’s car, opened the rear door, and got in.

The trooper observed him go over to the State car and opened the door asking the drunk what he thought he was doing.

The drunk replied, “You might as well take me straight to jail because there isn’t no way I can pass that test.”

The light we generate in the world through our deeds and actions, friends, and strangers we inspire and touch, are considered our spiritual children. The Rebbe explains, that before you engage with people you must first learn to find Noach, tranquility, and serenity.

We often raise children, with anxiety and stress. There is so much to do, so much to accomplish, so much homework, and so many duties, and hobbies, to keep up with what we call a normal successful life.

But Judaism is teaching us something fundamental. Serenity comes first. If you are raising kids, or doing mitzvot, with stress, guilt, and tension, you are undermining your very efforts, defeating the purpose, and creating something external, not deep, and enduring.

The more tranquil a person becomes, the greater their inner and outer success, their power for good.

In the prayers of Sukkot, we have a special prayer asking G-d to rescue my soul from panic, confusion, chaos, and disorder. The internally strong and calm person is loved and revered. They are like a shade-giving tree in a thirsty land or a sheltering rock in a storm. Who does not love a tranquil heart, a sweet-tempered, balanced life? It does not matter whether it rains or shines, or what changes come to those possessing these blessings, they remain always sweet, serene, and calm. Even when a flood comes their way, they master the art of Noach of inner peace.

That exquisite poise of character which we call serenity is the flowering of life, more to be desired than even fine gold. How insignificant are all external pursuits in comparison with a serene life, a life that dwells in the ocean of truth, beneath the waves, beyond the reach of tempests, in the eternal calm?

How many people we know who sour their lives, by explosive tempers, anger, lack of impulse control, by never-ending inner anger and tension?

Calmness is power. Say unto your heart, Noach! Peace! Be still.

It is not easy. We need to learn to govern our thoughts,  thinking patterns, perceptions, and inner mental chatter. Anxiety is the name of the game today. We need to learn how to make peace with the hardest person to make peace with—ourselves.

Only then can we effectively raise children and disciples; only then can we truly have an impact on people and create “spiritual children.”

I need to be honest with myself. So often our educating mentoring and raising our families, lack so much self-awareness. We live by instinct and our 

 pathways, without any serious honest self-examination. Am I responding to my children’s behavior from a space of inner anger, frustration, resentment, jealousy, fear, insecurity, repressed trauma, childhood pain, and a profound inability to find my inner peace?

Sometimes my involvement in all types of projects, work, and activism, even my mitzvot is marred by guilt, shame, fear, and the need for validation.

Judaism teaches us that Noach must come first. G-d wants you to be centered, anchored in your soul, comfortable in your skin, relaxed in your body, calm in your brain, peaceful in your heart, tranquil in your nervous system.

I may see and hear something disturbing, infuriating, and unsettling, but before responding I must become genuinely mindful of my inner experiences, turmoil, tension, and internal conflict. Then I can make a

choice. I can choose to retreat into the “Noach” of my soul—my inner oasis of calm, my core innocence, faith, resilience, and love, and react from that space.

But for this, we need true self-awareness. In previous generations perhaps we could get away with this, but in our generation, when we lack Noach— serenity the painful results are evident all around us, our youth need to feel the Noach as the prerequisite to the Mitzvot and Torah study.

The story of a woodcutter, hacking away ineffectually at a large pile of wood with a dull, blunt-edged ax. A well-meaning stranger comes along, notices the situation, and suggests that he sharpen his blade.

“I haven’t got time!” exclaims the woodcutter impatiently. “Can’t you see all the work ahead of me?”

Silly woodcutter! He’d be far more successful if he were to take the time to sharpen his ax. But we often deceive ourselves in the same way. We barrel through our days burdened with unnecessary tension. An unrelenting sense of urgency interferes with our good mood, clouds our judgment, and impedes our efficiency, convincing us that we haven’t got the time to slow down, calm down, and focus. We would be wise to sharpen our ax.

At the root of our delusion lies the assumption that we can’t control what we think. The mind is an unceasing torrent, and the stream tends to flow in well-worn ruts. We think somewhere between 60,000 and 75,000 thoughts a day, neurologists estimate, and the quality of those thoughts establishes the tone in our nervous systems. Positive, optimistic thoughts set us up for success; a habitual pattern of negative thinking perpetuates failure. Although most of us are willing, in theory, to accept responsibility for the results we get in life, in practice we often resign ourselves to the predictable pathways of our old attitudes and expectations.

Viktor Frankl said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s way.”

I came across a news item about a Turkish man who out of the goodness of his heart joined a search party for a missing person.

There was one thing he did not realize: The person everyone was looking for was him!

What a fantastic story, In the town of Inegol, northwest Turkey, a man named Beyhan Mutlu, 51, a Turkish construction worker, went drinking with his friends in a forest. After he drank enough, he left his friends and didn't return home.

His wife was unable to reach him on his cellphone, and officials were advised that his friends lost him after he wandered into a forest.

A search party was sent for in the dark of night.

While Mutlu was sleeping in a house in the forest, military forces and rescue teams were called in to search for him.

Mutlu woke up at dawn it was still dark. He came out of the house in the forest and encountered members of the search party. He soon learned that they were searching for a man who got lost there last night.

He decided to help them find the missing person. For hours, he was searching with them for the person who went missing...

During the hours-long search, in the dark of night, a potential rescuer shouted Mutlu's name: Beyhan Mutlu, Beyhan Mutlu, Beyhan Mutlu—and it dawned on him: OMG! He was the target of the search.

It was then that he realized the search party was looking for him. "Who are we looking for? I am here," he said.  

But they did not believe him. They thought he was insane; after all, he was searching with them, how can he be the lost man?!

Only when one of his drinking buddies came across him and identified him, did the search cease.

What a powerful, metaphor for life! Sometimes I spend my life searching for myself, everywhere. The only place I do not search is right here, within myself.

Driven to fill the void, we join the throngs of people, co-travelers who are also searching, and set our focus

externally, too afraid to closely examine the only place we can find who we are looking for – inside ourselves.

"Many years ago," Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov told his disciples, “In the holy city of Safed, there lived a

simple but G‐d-fearing Jew. Though not blessed with a great mind or exceptional talents, he served G‐d with a whole heart and a humble spirit.

"Late one night, there was a knock on his door. On his threshold stood an old man with a long white beard and a countenance as radiant as the heavens. 'I am Elijah the Prophet,' said the visitor. 'I have come to open your mind and heart and teach you the deepest secrets of creation.

On the day of your Bar Mitzvah, continued Elijah, you did a wondrous deed,  which reverberated through all the universes. The angels and souls that dwell on high all wondered: what has this man done that has flooded the heavens with this magnificent light, such as has not been seen for many generations? But your deed was too radiant for us to behold.

Tell me what you did, said Elijah, and I will reveal things that only the greatest souls are privy to.

What I did, replied the simple Jew of Sefad, I did for G‐d alone. It is not for the knowledge of any creature, man, or angel.

Elijah pleaded and cajoled, promising even greater spiritual gifts. But the man was steadfast in his refusal,

and the prophet-angel departed empty-handed.

In my past life, said the Baal Shem Tov, It was me.
The Baal Shem Tov meant was that his soul came to the world to teach the essence of serenity: I do nothing for anyone or anybody else; I do it for G-d Himself.

The Baal Shem Tov was the master of serenity—and he taught us the art of Noach, serenity. To live in a sacred space, beneath all the waves, in an inner calm of confidence and truthfulness.

Shabbat Shalom and Chodesh Tov,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky